Part 17 (1/2)
”Dismount all, gentlemen!” cried old Coislin; ”forward with pistol and sword! Abandon your horses!”
All obeyed instantly, and threw themselves in a ma.s.s upon the breach.
Meantime, De Thou, whose coolness never quitted him any more than his friends.h.i.+p, had not lost sight of the young Henri, and had received him in his arms when his horse fell. He helped him to rise, restored to him his sword, which he had dropped, and said to him, with the greatest calmness, notwithstanding the b.a.l.l.s which rained on all sides:
”My friend, do I not appear very ridiculous amid all this skirmish, in my costume of Counsellor in Parliament?”
”Parbleu!” said Montresor, advancing, ”here's the Abbe, who quite justifies you.”
And, in fact, little Gondi, pus.h.i.+ng on among the light hors.e.m.e.n, was shouting, at the top of his voice: ”Three duels and an a.s.sault. I hope to get rid of my ca.s.sock at last!”
Saying this, he cut and thrust at a tall Spaniard.
The defence was not long. The Castilian soldiers were no match for the French officers, and not one of them had time or courage to recharge his carbine.
”Gentlemen, we will relate this to our mistresses in Paris,” said Locmaria, throwing his hat into the air; and Cinq-Mars, De Thou, Coislin, De Mouy, Londigny, officers of the red companies, and all the young n.o.blemen, with swords in their right hands and pistols in their left, das.h.i.+ng, pus.h.i.+ng, and doing each other by their eagerness as much harm as they did the enemy, finally rushed upon the platform of the bastion, as water poured from a vase, of which the opening is too small, leaps out in interrupted gushes.
Disdaining to occupy themselves with the vanquished soldiers, who cast themselves at their feet, they left them to look about the fort, without even disarming them, and began to examine their conquest, like schoolboys in vacation, laughing with all their hearts, as if they were at a pleasure-party.
A Spanish officer, enveloped in his brown cloak, watched them with a sombre air.
”What demons are these, Ambrosio?” said he to a soldier. ”I never have met with any such before in France. If Louis XIII has an entire army thus composed, it is very good of him not to conquer all Europe.”
”Oh, I do not believe they are very numerous; they must be some poor adventurers, who have nothing to lose and all to gain by pillage.”
”You are right,” said the officer; ”I will try to persuade one of them to let me escape.”
And slowly approaching, he accosted a young light-horseman, of about eighteen, who was sitting apart from his comrades upon the parapet. He had the pink-and-white complexion of a young girl; his delicate hand held an embroidered handkerchief, with which he wiped his forehead and his golden locks He was consulting a large, round watch set with rubies, suspended from his girdle by a knot of ribbons.
The astonished Spaniard paused. Had he not seen this youth overthrow his soldiers, he would not have believed him capable of anything beyond singing a romance, reclined upon a couch. But, filled with the suggestion of Ambrosio, he thought that he might have stolen these objects of luxury in the pillage of the apartments of a woman; so, going abruptly up to him, he said:
”Hombre! I am an officer; will you restore me to liberty, that I may once more see my country?”
The young Frenchman looked at him with the gentle expression of his age, and, thinking of his own family, he said:
”Monsieur, I will present you to the Marquis de Coislin, who will, I doubt not, grant your request; is your family of Castile or of Aragon?”
”Your Coislin will ask the permission of somebody else, and will make me wait a year. I will give you four thousand ducats if you will let me escape.”
That gentle face, those girlish features, became infused with the purple of fury; those blue eyes shot forth lightning; and, exclaiming, ”Money to me! away, fool!” the young man gave the Spaniard a ringing box on the ear. The latter, without hesitating, drew a long poniard from his breast, and, seizing the arm of the Frenchman, thought to plunge it easily into his heart; but, nimble and vigorous, the youth caught him by the right arm, and, lifting it with force above his head, sent it back with the weapon it held upon the head of the Spaniard, who was furious with rage.
”Eh! eh! Softly, Olivier!” cried his comrades, running from all directions; ”there are Spaniards enough on the ground already.”
And they disarmed the hostile officer.
”What shall we do with this lunatic?” said one.
”I should not like to have him for my valet-dechambre,” returned another.